


Burning

by Dessmina



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, Recovery, Therapy, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2019-07-13 01:46:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16007720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dessmina/pseuds/Dessmina
Summary: Ethan doesn't know how he came to stay with his aunt and uncle, or what on earth those weird dreams with flames meant.He just wanted to live a happy life, so if those new kids who brought with them the unwanted thoughts could just go away, that would be great.ORSkull loses his memory after the Curse is broken and the ex-Arcobaleno keep trying to find him. Skull is just trying to make sense of it all.





	1. Ablaze

**Author's Note:**

> Note: this is not a crossover. Rosie, Greg, Dr Naveed and any unrecognisable characters are all OCs. Skull is Ethan.
> 
> If you feel as though a tag is missing please tell me.

_It is heat._

_It is fire._

_It is flames._

_The familiarity of it reaches and grasps towards him, every colour of the rainbow apart from one - the violet._

_And inside something in him awakens as it tries to fight its' way out, calling out to the other flames._

**_I'm here please please help me pleasepleaseplease_ **

_And they hear the cry and just as they turn, just as his moth opens, to say, to scream, to sob_

_Arcob-_

  
He wakes up in sweat covered sheets, the sound of a lone car passing outside the window and a word at the tip of his tongue that he nearly caught this time. His head aches, and his mouth is parched.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed ( _and were they shorter in his dream? Why would he dream he was a_ toddler _when he was a big boy and 6 and nonono_ ) stuffing his feet into his slippers and rises, padding towards the door softly.

He makes his way towards the kitchen, avoiding the creaky step and passing by the hallway with the scarves, coats and one lone fedora (Chaos! _a voice exclaims in his head and he can just imagine the smugness and the utter arrogance_ ) that he asked his aunt and uncle to buy him one day.

He reaches the kitchen, the moon letting him walk around with no trouble, and grabs the cup with little octopi scribbled all over it. He opens the fridge and takes out the strawberry milk, not that he was a big fan of it. But something about it ( _a twist of lips and_ Mou, it will cost you a glass of strawberry milk) just made him feel better, safer even.

He sits at the table, the strawberry milk in his cup and his alligator slippers _(a flash of green and maniacal laughter like those he hears in cartoons that mad scientists give fill his head and_ ) swinging back and forth slowly.

"Ethan," is said as the lights on the side turn on. Ethan jumps, spilling his milk slightly as he looks up at his uncle.

"I've been calling you a while," his uncle says, a paper towel in hand as he gestures to a half finished mug of tea.

"Hahaha, sorry uncle Greg! The great Ethan was busy with his mission for strawberry milk!" He doesn't mention that the name Ethan feels wrong, alien to him. That it feels like a mask that he has to put on and play and so he forgets to react to that name at times. He never makes the mistake of mentioning this to his aunt or uncle though. Dr. Naveed ( _and does his long, thin hair in a tight braid and the serene smile he wears remind him of someone important, someone special and_ ) already has enough to talk to him about. "Why are you up?" He asks his uncle, who was cleaning up the spilled milk.

"I was having a cup of tea, because I couldn't sleep," and before Uncle Greg could continue Ethan cut in.

"In the dark?" He asked with a wrinkled nose. His uncle flicked his nose lightly ( _a forgetten memory or not-memory tried to rise but quickly vanished_ ) and Ethan instantly shielded his nose from further attack.

"And you didn't turn on the light either," here he pouted, hands still covering his nose.

"The light hurts my eyes this early!" He defended himself, sulkily taking a sip of his milk. His uncle sighed and ruffled his hair fondly ( _a warm smile, and a warm voice offering him cookies as orange eyes peered at him_ ) sitting back down across from Ethan.

"Did you have another night terror Ethan?" He asked and Ethan could feel his shoulders bunch up.

"Nah, course not!" He exclaimed, glancing nervously away from his uncle and quickly taking a sip of his milk.

His uncle remained quiet for a moment and when Ethan looked up he saw sad, ancient eyes staring at him. Guilt flooded him and he looked away.

"You know your aunt and I are here for you, right?" He asked and Ethan nodded, his throat clogging up. "We don't mind you waking us up to talk about them," his uncle said, gazing at him steadily.

Ethan nodded, but couldn't bring himself to look up at him. He knew they didn't mind, but he just couldn't wake them up every night. Not when he knows Aunt Rosie had difficulties sleeping, her own terrors haunting her at night from when she was in military ( _and why why why does that remind him of blue and a couple, violent and happy in military gear oh why_ ) and had to do things for this country she never forgave herself fully for.

When Ethan glanced up he had a feeling as though his uncle could tell what he was thinking anyways.

His uncle didn't sigh, instead he simply rose and made his way towards the kettle.

"Tea?" He asked. And Ethan looked at his octopi cup, drained of strawberry milk and decided that yes, his uncle was cool.

"Yeah please!"

 

* * *

 

He changed his mind. His uncle was _not_ cool, he was one big lie. He has been _betrayed_ , sold out by his _one_ and _only_ uncle to-

"Ethan, what did you dream about?" Asked his Auntie Rosie. Her eyes were silently imploring - and how did he even know this word - him to speak, to speak and tell the truth.

Ethan glared at his uncle, a pout rising and ruining the whole effect.

"It wasn't anything important," he said mullishly, kicking his feet back and forth childishly - _and of course the action was childlish as he was a child after all_ \- but his aunt did not waver.

He pouted again and crossed his arms, and then uncrossed them just as quickly (don't cross your arms lackey it shows weakness  _floats in his head)_ and reluctantly started speaking.

"I, it was the flames. Again," here Ethan paused struggling for words. His aunt waited patiently, not encouraging him, but then she didn't discourage him either. "They were bright and, um, like they were looking for something? Something important. Something they lost," the words stumbled over each other in a mess but his aunt nodded her head.

"Go on," she said, pouring him some more juice.

"It felt like, um, like," he stumbled once again and paused.

"What did it feel like Ethan?" His aunt asked softly, her voice so far away from him. He was peripherally aware of his uncle shooting her a look, but his aunt remained focused on him.

"Like they were looking for me," here he gave a small pause, and then, in a quieter voice,

"It felt like _home_."

 

* * *

 

"Your nightmares haven't stopped then," Dr Naveed stated more than asked him in their session later on.

"Nope," Ethan said, popping the 'p'. "But they kinda feel more realistic than normal nightmares," Ethan tried explaining.

"How so?"

"Well, I sometimes have nightmares that I'll be taken away from my aunt or uncle, yeah? And usually all the emotions I get from that fade _really_ quickly with a hug from my uncle and time. But these nightmares stay with me and I just can't stop thinking about them," Ethan explained, his arms gesturing wildly, knocking the toys off the couch.

"Any other nightmares or dreams or maybe thoughts that stay with you?" Dr Naveed asked him curiously, waving Ethan off as he started picking up the toys.

"Sometimes I look at my legs and think, that they should be shorter than this or _way_ longer," Ethan said with a scrunched up nose, staring intently at his legs.

"Do you often think like this?" Dr Naveed asked, gathering the toys scattered round them, not looking at Ethan directly. And Ethan knew he did it to make him more comfortable. He really appreciated that.

"Every time I wake up," Ethan replied, kicking his feet back and forth slowly.

"Hmm," Dr Naveed mused and then he walked to one of the filing cabinets in the office, dropping off the toys in the toy box on his way there.

"What would you say about giving you some homework?" Dr Naveed said rhetorically.

Ethan groaned.

"Do I gotta?"

"I think it will help you a lot. And if you keep at it, I may just so happen to have something waiting for you," Dr Naveed prompted and Ethan agreed without a second thought.

Dr Naveed then walked towards him and passed him a blank notebook.

"I want you from today onwards to write down all your dreams as soon as you wake up, alright? Along with any intrusive- ah, I mean any thoughts that will not leave your head," Dr Naveed explained and Ethan decided not to point that he knew what intrusive meant.

"Is that all?" Ethan said, waving the book in the air.

"Yes it is and it is the end of your session too," Dr Naveed said, checking his watch.

 

* * *

 

They didn't always talk about his nightmares/not-nightmares, his dissociation with his body or intrusive thoughts (or his knowledge of words that he never remembers learning or how he just knows stuff 6 year olds simply _s_ _houldn't_ -) during those therapy sessions.

In fact, there were times that the whole session was just talk of mundane everyday stuff. He remembers a session during which he just rambled on about motorcycles, because motorcycles were _awesome_ and he really wanted one but his uncle was all like "you're too young" while his aunt just said musingly "why not?" And then his uncle was all like "Rosie he is 6" and his aunt shrugged all like "meh" and then when his uncle wasn't looking she winked at him and really his Aunt Rosie is the _best_ -

He just _really_ loves motorcycles.

So not all of the sessions were doom and gloom. And to be honest, Ethan didn't mind them that much. They seemed really helpful to him, in fact he started to make more sense of all those weird dreams than before.

But sometimes he has flashes of intense fear and hate towards the doctors, those in hospitals in scrubs. Adults just see it as a child's reaction to a bit of pain. But he knows it goes deeper than that, knows that it must certainly have to do with something that has happened to him _before_ auntie and uncle, something to do with all those _stupid_ dreams he was having-

He just really hated hospitals sometimes.

And he especially hated when the nurses came at him with empty syringes, wanting to test his blood.

But he preserved and let them take it. What harm could come from that?

( _He ignored the itch that warned him that bad things happened to unnatural little things like him_ ).

 

* * *

 

It got better, easier.

And then it got _worse_.

 

* * *

 

He has naturally purple hair. Which, well, it's _not_ weird, but unusual. And then his eyes matched his hair perfectly too. The same shade, no matter the time of day.

Ethan actually loved his hair and eyes. They kind of reminded him of something. He couldn't really put his finger on it though. Something to do with multiplication?

( _It does and doesn't because it is not the right word and it has to do with flames_ -)

They give him a lot of attention whenever he goes out though. His uncle explained to him that not all attention is good ( _and Ethan knew this already, flashes of phantom pain tingling his fingers_ ) and that something bad could happen to him if he didn't hide them.

Ethan was quite certain that his auntie, uncle and Dr Naveed were afraid that his parents or whoever had him in the past would come back and hurt him, and they just _really_ wanted to avoid that. But then he really loved his eyes and hair, they made him look cool, like a bike rider (you look like a punk kid  _sneered yellow eyes, and an offended gasp met their words_ ).

In the end, Ethan agreed to coloured contact lenses to hide his purple eyes-

"But they itch!"

"I know very well that they only feel a bit itchy when you put them in Ethan."

-and a hat to cover most of his hair. And if anyone asked, he had to say it was temporary hair spray.

 

* * *

 

He was playing in the park with the other kids, his uncle sat on a bench not far away, reading his newspaper and every once in a while glancing up. Not that S-Ethan blamed him ( _and what was it that he wanted to call himself?_ ). He had a habit of drifting off, letting his feet take him wherever and then getting lost. He lost count of how many times his aunt and uncle searched the town for him.

That's not to say that when they saw him wandering they stopped him. It was like they could tell he needed to wander, see the town and just be. Instead of stopping him, they walked around with him, making sure he didn't get lost or kidnapped.

But this wasn't one of his wandering days. Instead he had a good time playing tag with all the other kids in the park. He gleefully ran away from Leo, who then decided to chase someone else. Ethan was loosely aware of the new kids at the side, watching but not joining in, they did that for a few days already so Ethan wasn't that concerned. It's not like they paid much attention to him.

Soon, the game of tag developed into tackle and Peter slammed into him. Ethan fell with a laugh and and 'oomph!', his hat flying from his head. They sat up laughing loudly.

Ethan faintly heard one word over the laughter from the new kids.

"Skull?"

Who was Skull, Ethan wondered still laughing, flashes of circus and stunts pushed away.

 

* * *

 

The new kids were weird, Ethan decided. Not that he really had room to talk. But he at least didn't stalk other people! They seemed weirdly focused on him. Maybe it was his hair? They did seem to start stalking him since his hat fell off. Is this why his uncle told him it would be better to hide his hair? Because he didn't want weirdo kids stalking him?

Ethan mournfully considered dying his hair. He did love it, but if dying is what it took to stop the new kids glaring and bringing all the dreams and intrusive thoughts - _which he was finding harder to detect as they were starting to sound like his own_ \- he might just go with black hair.

Were kids even allowed to permanently dye their hair?

 

* * *

 

Ethan felt trapped.

Eyes were constantly on him, no matter where he went, he could feel the weight of eyes on his back. His night terrors were getting worse with each passing day and the smile on his face kept getting faker with each day.

Sk-Eth- _He_ just wanted to be free.

His auntie and uncle were getting more worried with each day, Dr Naveed has been growing more concerned as well and the new kids would _just, not, stop, staring_.

He was burning.

And nothing could stop it or help him.

 

* * *

 

He wakes up, mind empty, and eyes staring straight at the ceiling.

He doesn't know who he is anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I vanish for months and post a story which is not even mentioned on my profile. I posted this, because Article 13 has been accepted and if it isn't rejected in the final voting then I might never be able to post this so, there you go (if you don't know what I'm on about, please research article 13 and the effects it will have on everyone's use of internet in Europe).
> 
> Skull (or well Ethan) uses a lot of italics for emphasis because he is just an exaggerating little thing. He also tends to ramble a lot, bless him.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this little one shot, I probably won't continue this (edit: i did continue this). I would have no idea where to go with it or how to work in the others so you know.
> 
> Have a lovely day!


	2. Scorching

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories are a terrible burden, Ethan-Skull-whoever he is today knows that much.

Ethan did his best to avoid the kids, refusing to go back to the park and instead asking his aunt and uncle to let him wander. They agreed, sharing worried looks over his head. He pretended not to notice, as something twisted around in his stomach and curled around his throat, leaving him choked up.

So he wandered and wandered, his feet in constant motion, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t keep his attention for long and his thoughts kept drifting, making his mood worse and worse each time. It was uncle Greg that came up with the idea.

“An aquarium?” Ethan asked with rising excitement, a first for a while. An aquarium full of fish and sharks and octopuses! There would be octopuses! His uncle smiled at him as Ethan started bouncing around babbling happily about all the stuff they could find there.

“It’s interactive as well,” his auntie Rosie said, flicking through the pamphlet and Ethan started vibrating in place. “You get to ‘swim’ with the seaweed, there is an arcade full of fish related games and there’s live feeding!” An interactive aquarium! He craned his neck to look at the line in front of them. It wasn’t that long, only a few people and they could enter. He couldn’t wait!

A few hours later, his aunt carried him out of the aquarium whilst he sleepily clutched a red octopus close to his chest, a real smile on his face.

“You’re certain you didn’t want the purple one?” Auntie Rose asked him, amusement in her voice and he shook his head, clutching his octopus closer to his chest.

“What will you call it?” Uncle asked him, easily hefting Ethan’s small backpack along with his own bag and the gift shop bag. Ethan blinked muzzily and then held out the octopus in front of himself. He frowned in concentration and squinted at the toy. Something tickled at the back of his mind.

“Oodako! His name is Oodako!” He declared and something within him relaxed as he clutched Oodako back to his body. It felt like home. Uncle Greg opened the car and auntie Rosie hummed, shifting him to deposit him in the car, dropping a kiss on his forehead.

“It’s a great name dear!”

 

* * *

 

It was a temporary happiness.

 

* * *

 

_darkness, darkness, darkne-_

_a flicker of a flame and a faraway sound of humming_

_“Oodako? Nice to meet you.” Pause. “This is Lichi-”_

 

* * *

 

Those kids were persistent. Ethan scowled as he clutched his aunt’s hand tighter dragging her to take the path on the left, away from the kids. His aunt squeezed his hand back and Ethan relaxed a bit. Honestly, how much more stalker-ish could they get? Peter told Ethan during one of their playdates that since he stopped coming round to the park they disappeared. Apparently, not for long as here they were the second time Ethan decided to appear at the park.

What a bother.

Well, S-Ethan was afraid of no one! He would show them! He was the greatest Ethan after all!

(He never had much confidence in himself to begin with.)

And they were _kids_ , they couldn’t be that bad and would probably lose interest in Ethan soon enough right?

(Something within him whispered to stop pretending and lying. He wished he could.)

 

* * *

 

_flicker, flicker, flicker_

_the light is dimming and rising over and over as though agitated or excited or-_

_“Never approach another directly kora” a pause. A laugh. “Well, you would look suspicious, such direct approach. Best is to appear nearby kora.”_

_“For fucks sake, how difficult is it to explain.” a sound of flesh hitting clothes and a fake whine of pain “Listen up maggot, it’s similar to knocking on the door. You knock on the door to let someone inside the house know that you are there. You let your contact know you are there by appearing nearby, but not approaching directly until told so.”_

 

* * *

 

“How are you feeling today, Ethan?” Dr. Naveed asked, his voice soft. But Ethan could tell that he was taking in his scruffy hair, the bags under his eyes and the too large grin on his face. Ethan considered lying, covering up as something within told him to (l _ie, lie, lie like you always do-_ ), but then he remembered something that Dr. Naveed told him.

It was their second session and Ethan (well, not Ethan then, he didn’t know who he was and neither did the authorities and so he was a John Doe, thought Dr. Naveed did his best to avoid calling him that) did what he found he was good at: bluffing. He avoided questions about his past, about his feelings and more. And Dr. Naveed looked at him, truly looked at him and saw something beyond of what he was.

Dr. Naveed didn’t look at Ethan like a child, like something to be fixed. He looked at Ethan like another human being.

“I am not here to make you happy,” Dr. Naveed began in his soft voice, eyes piercing Ethan down to his soul. “I’m here to help you move forwards, to manage what you feel. Life is a journey and you have to feel like you’re moving forwards. So if you feel bad, I won’t berate you, I won’t tell you that you shouldn’t feel like this and I won’t force you to tell me. If you tell me, I will help you understand why you feel like this and if you don’t want to tell me, you can say ‘I don’t want to talk about it’, just please don’t lie to me. I am here to help.”

And Ethan, who should be no more than a child of 5, who should not understand the words, the depth of them, looked back at Dr. Naveed, swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded his head.

And so-

“I’ve been better,” he said quietly, grin and shoulders dropping. Dr. Naveed, nodded his head.

( _You idiot_ , a voice he should remember snaps, _trust no one, especially now that you're in the maf-_ )

“And is this something you would like to talk about?”

“Not really, it just- it was-” Ethan struggled to find the right words, a frown on his face. He absently fiddled with his cloud necklace. “Another dream- nightmare.”

Dr. Naveed waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts whilst unpacking the puzzle box and as before, the action of not looking at him, of letting him gather his thoughts in peace and not pressing and searching, just taking whatever Ethan gave him - it caused a rush of warmth to flow through him.

(fake, fake, fake, _as if I would trust you to watch my back_ )

“I’ve been writing down my dreams,” Ethan said, taking out his notebook. He flipped to he latest page and traced the writing. “The dream it, it was more emotional? No, it was more draining I guess, it left me- um- it left me feeling as though I was um, well, it made me feel as though I was burning,” he muttered the last part, feeling so stupid, it made no sense, and what did Dr. Naveed care about his stupid dreams that weren’t even real? He was so fu-

“Burning?” Dr. Naveed mumbled curiously, and when Ethan looked at him there was no judgement, no pity and no patronising look being thrown his way. Ethan latched onto that like a lifeline.

“Yeah, um, I don’t think I have the right words to describe it,” he admitted, putting his notebook aside. He then kept his hands busy by flicking the puzzle pieces the right way up. Dr. Naveed moved the box out of the way, keeping the top of it - with the final outcome of the puzzle - within sight and easy reach.

“No worries Ethan, tell me what you can and feel most comfortable with,” the steady voice of his therapist helped sooth down his anxiety. “Maybe there is something else you would like to talk to me about?”

Ethan hesitated even as he quickly separated the edge puzzle pieces from the inside puzzle pieces. Should he mention the weird kids ( _not-kids_ )? With their too sharp eyes, unnatural grace and the knowledge Ethan could see sitting at the tips of their tongues? Their stalker-ish behaviour that seemed to be focused on him? And the word, no name, that they said when they looked at him, ‘Skull’?

“Can we do the puzzle for a while and talk about the circus in town for now?” Ethan asked shooing the thoughts away, although the circus brought its own thoughts with it. Dr. Naveed smiled at him.

“Of course.”

 

* * *

 

_hmm, hmm, hmm_

_“What?” a big sigh “I am a scientist, not a medical doctor. I don’t deal with broken bodies and broken minds. I_ make _the bodies and mind_ broken _-”_

 

* * *

 

“I’m burning with flames,” Skull- wait no, Ethan murmured quietly, considering a puzzle piece against another. Silence. He wasn’t concerned. His gaze was somewhat unfocused as he stared at the puzzle. “My entire body, my entire being is filled with flames, flames the colour of amethyst, but brighter than any gem, any thing that I have seen.” Ethan-Skull’s head jerked up, eyes meeting Dr. Naveed’s in a frenzied rush and there was a glow in those purple eyes - purple like amethyst. Dr. Naveed gazed steadily back, hands visible as he calmly stared at him. “And they haunt me. They are the shadows on sunny days. The flicker I see in the corner of my eyes. The things I fear and the things I love. It draws me in and drowns me and- and- and-” tears fall down his face.

“I just want it to stop!” And then he burst out crying, ugly sobs shuddering his entire frame.

“Ethan, can I hug you?” that was not his name, but then neither was Skull and he was so tired- “Ethan can I hug you?” and this time Skul-Etha-he looked up to see Dr. Naveed looking concerned his eyes gazing steadily at him, not shying away or staring through him and all he could was sob and nod arms reaching up towards the doctor.

Strong arms encircled him slowly and EthanSkullEthanSkull let himself fall.

 

* * *

 

_the flame flickers still_

_“I miss having you all here.” silence - no, a reply,_ his _reply -, a giggle “well, maybe not the explosions specifically, but just the feeling of family and warmth of the flames-”_

 

* * *

 

At first, he used to see Dr. Naveed everyday, one of the first things in the morning. “It’s to help you adjust and to create a routine,” Dr. Naveed told him when not-Ethan-yet asked him.

With time the therapy sessions decreased, and when his aunt and uncle adopted him, they dropped to 3 per week, then 2 when they noticed good adjustment, until he saw Dr. Naveed once per week. If he was having more bad days than usual, his aunt and uncle always reminded him that he could always see Dr. Naveed if that would help him, and so, sometimes he saw Dr. Naveed more. Usually, he preferred staying at home, curling up on the couch with his family and watching films. He still had some of the songs from Prince of Egypt stuck in his head.

( _sleep and remember my last lullaby, someday we’ll meet when you dream_ )

However, with what was happening recently (the sleepless nights, flinching at sounds, eating less...), Dr. Naveed gently recommended that they increase the therapy sessions for the time being.

Ethan, unhappily and unwillingly, could see that it would be helpful. It didn’t stop the clogging in his throat and the drop in his stomach. And he was doing so well.

His auntie Rosie didn’t let him hold onto those thoughts for long.

“Recovery isn’t linear,” she said to him that night as they sat in the darkness of the kitchen, the light of the moon the only thing allowing them to see. They both nursed drinks, he had his strawberry milk whilst his aunt drank the decaf tea she liked so much. “It’s not a straight path. It has its ups and downs like everything else in life. You will have bad days, days where you feel like sh-stuff doesn’t want to work for you. Days where you lay in bed and just want to fall back asleep. Days where you just want all the noise to stop,” here she paused and looked him straight in the eyes.

“But take it from me kiddo, with time those bad days will be overtaken by all the good days you will have.”

“Yeah?” than sniffles letting go of his mug to wipe at his eyes, even as he wants to keep his eyes on his aunt.

“They have for me,” she says, and S-Ethan remembers the years she served, the nightmares she has and the days she refuses to sleep.

“You are not a failure Ethan,” she continues in a strong voice, reaching across the table and clutching his hand in hers. And he can see in her eyes understanding.

“Setbacks happen and you, Ethan, are a fighter, and I know that they will not keep you back. And we are here for you, cheering you on, even if it doesn’t feel like it.”

 

* * *

 

_“You want to know about flames?” A sense of agreement from_ himself -he _is the other part of the conversation and these are_ his _mem- “Mou, it will cost you, Sku-?”_

 

* * *

 

He goes back to the park, determined not to be afraid.

“Chaos,” the kid ( _not-kid_ ) with the curly sideburns smirks at him. “It’s been a while

S  
k  
u  
l  
l.”

(It curls within him and burns)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> why did they send reborn smh, this will not go well lol “ah yes, reborn is one smooth mf, it will go down so well, hew ill charm all of them and skull doesn’t seem to remember us anyway yeah” mhm yeah, right. Yes hi hello, how you all doing :) so, i have no way of explaining this. The story just ran away from me. I was like “oh I have ideas for burning and should probably write something with the rest of the ex-arcs” but then Dr. Naveed just??? appeared??? and was like “we have to talk about Ethan’s mental state” and yeah we do fam. I tried including them a bit more, the dream/italics stuff in-between the scenes and such.
> 
> I had some stuff I wanted to elaborate on (what Skull is recovering from and some stuff about the therapy in general), but it wouldn’t fit with Skull as a narrator and was getting too long for an A/N, so feel free to check out my tumblr (Dessmina) where I will post about that. No promises for chapter 3 (although... something is bouncing around in my brain based on some previous reviews...).
> 
> And thank you for all the lovely feedback! Didn't expect this to do as well as it did!


End file.
